


Hawke and Co.

by EmpressTod



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, F/M, Humour, Multi, Polyamory, Pro Mage, Slow Burnish, They love each other, a hawke full of one liners, funny Hawke, threes a crowd ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14451240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressTod/pseuds/EmpressTod
Summary: Just wanting to live the simple life, but it seemed like the universe wasn't gonna let her. After their daring escape from the blight, Hawke had been prepared to kick back and live life as a noble, that was until they actually stepped foot onto Kirkwall, and they figured out that their uncle was .... just literally the worst.On a mission to earn a holiday, she finds something in her new home that she didn't expect.





	Hawke and Co.

Hawke was tired.

To be fair, ever since she’d fled to Kirkwall she couldn’t seem to get enough rest. At first it was the bed-bugs crawling up and down the bunks in the room she shared with Bethany, and the noises that always seeped through the thin walls from the rest of Lowtown. Then it was because she was always out to the late hours of the night and well into the next day doing grunt-work for Meeran.

Then it was because Bethany kept having nightmares, and Hawke couldn’t sleep for the worry that her mage sister was going to be possessed, even though she’d managed perfectly okay for 22 years. Then it was simply stress and grief, when she wasn’t worried over her sister or mother, she was worried for herself, for their situation. Sure, a brave face was practiced and perfected, much like the quick wit that was never far away. When in reality what was underneath was something she didn’t want to deal with at all.

In truth they had only a thin sliver of hope, and they weren’t anywhere near the coin they needed to buy into that expedition. Hawke knew that Mother couldn’t stay at Gamlen’s for so long, only loosing herself more and more with each day to the depression, the weight that they all carried in their hearts and settled into their bones since they’d had to leave Carver behind.

So, on that night when she stumbled into the Hanged Man, eyes only for a tankard of their signature piss-smelling ale, she was staving off exhaustion and her patience was hanging by a thread.

She was ordering drinks for herself and Varric, trying to get the attention of the bartender (who was always constantly flirting with any woman that he could lay his eyes on), when she heard the commotion across the bar. Blinking herself out of her thoughts, she leaned around the pillar blocking her view, and spied a woman casually sipping a tankard while five men forced themselves into the space around her.

Hawke wondered if she should step in to help, they obviously had beef with the lady in the white shirt and weren’t about to leave quietly. But her drink had just arrived, so rather than step into a situation that clearly didn’t involve her even though she really wanted to, she stood and watched the woman kick all of their asses.

It was quite the sight on her sore eyes, I’ll tell you that much.

“Tell me, Lucky. Is this worth dying for?” The woman’s voice was like honey, rich and smooth and literal music to Hawke’s ears.

When the man at the end of her daggers staggered away almost on the edge of soiling himself, Hawke watched from the other side of the bar. Completely entranced as the woman leant back on the bar almost giggling to herself as she knocked back her drink, “I didn’t think so.”

Hawke overcame her exhaustion suddenly, upon getting another drink she wandered around the bar, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the woman was only wearing that long shirt and no trousers.

She’d always admired a woman with _this_ level of confidence.

“I can see you, you know.” The woman said, Hawke smiled inwardly at the silky tone, and as she met those glowing whiskey eyes she couldn’t help but think of that gaze as hot, molten as if the woman knew her secrets but was willing to seduce them from her anyway.

The woman tilted her head to the side, pushing away from the bar counter and faced Hawke, “You’re new around here aren’t you?” Even though her eyes spread warmth, Hawke recognised a guardedness in her stance.

In front of her was a woman who knew what she needed to do to survive.

Hawke could only nod once at this, and the woman offered her a smile, “Welcome, and keep your wits about you.” Hawke wandered closer to the bar so she could stand closer and neither of them had to shout over the din to hear each other, “You’re nothing but tits and arse to the men in this place, and they won’t hesitate to grab at both.”

Hawke knew it pulled at the scar on her bottom lip when she smiled like this, but she couldn’t help it. The woman beside her was a… refreshing change from what had become the norm, “Speaking from experience, are we?”

The woman threw her head back and laughed and Hawke zoned out for a second watching the dim light reflect off her hair, “After a few broken fingers here and there, they got the idea.”

There was silence for a moment as Hawke took a sip of her drink, and she grinned as the other woman performed an elaborate curtsey that had her smiling again, “I’m Isabela –previously Captain Isabela, but sadly without my ship the title rings a bit hollow. You’re Fereldan aren’t you? You have that look about you.”

“ _Pleasure_ to meet you. I’m Gwen Hawke, although everyone around _here_ just calls me by my last name.”

“It adds an air of mystery that you’re severely lacking in, Hawke.” Varric had wondered over by that point, wondering where the drinks were, “Ah, and I see you’ve met Rivaini – what a small town Kirkwall is.”

“It’s actually very large, Varric.”

“Everything seems big to a small-town Fereldan.”

Isabela watched them with an amused stare, “Fereldan was too marshy for me, I was always wet.”

“I’m sure you were Rivaini.” Varric laughed, while Hawke just grinned again.

She hadn’t felt this relaxed in a while, certainly not while in Kirkwall.

Isabela motioned to a table and they all sat down, making sure their drinks were full as she continued, “I was in Denerim not too long ago… you know; you might be just what I’m looking for to solve a little problem I have.”

Hawke raised one eyebrow, and almost sarcastically replied, “I’m always happy to help,” In truth she was just nosy and liked knowing things, and it worked out well because people were _always_ asking her for help.

“Someone from my past has been pestering me, I’ve arranged for a duel. If I win he leaves me alone but … I don’t trust him to play fair. I need someone to watch my back.”

_So vague I love it_ , “Who’s this person you’ve arranged to meet?”

Isabela’s eyes hardened in resentment, “His name is Hader. We worked together back in Antiva and he’s _never_ liked me.” She shrugged, “He’s been asking about me all around Kirkwall, thought I’d get it over with and meet him face-to-face.”

Hawke thought there was no harm in that, and had always wanted to watch a proper duel, however… “You wanted information from those men didn’t you? I heard most of the argument.”

“I wanted them to find something I lost, they failed to do it.” She waved a ringed hand, “It’s nothing to worry about and this is more important.”

“One last thing –what makes you think I’m right for this?” Hawke asked, but before she even finished the sentence Varric was scoffing, “What? It’s a good question!”

“Hawke, in the time we’ve known each other, you’ve never proven that you weren’t capable.”

“Yes, but Isabela just got here!”

“You saw me talking to Lucky didn’t you? Those boys couldn’t even handle simple information gathering-”

“Amateurs-”

“ _Exactly_. I can’t trust anyone in this backwater to do anything right, but you? You’re…” Hawke almost felt her face warm under the heat of Isabela’s appraising stare as it roamed her up and down, “Different.”

Hawke felt the old scar pull as the side of her mouth tilted up in response, “I think I could… manage. Watching your back.”

Isabela gave a short laugh, and the eyes were back on hers again, “I’ll bet.” Then she drained the last of her drink and pushed away from the table, from this angle her brown skin caught the warm light, and Hawke’s attention wandered again, “I’ve arranged to meet Hader in Hightown after dark. I’ll meet you there.”

Varric had to snap his fingers in front of Hawke’s eyes to get her to pay attention again, and by that point Isabela was long gone.

“Be careful with that one Hawke, she might be more trouble than she’s worth.”

Hawke eyed him, eyebrow raised, “All I do is recruit trouble- have you met me?” He just shook his head into his drink as she jumped into action, “What time is it, Varric?”

“Almost sundown.”

“Great we’ll be rushing to meet her now.” Glancing around the Hanged Man (there were almost always a few members of her little family hanging around), she spied Fenris in the corner drinking by himself and managed to catch his eye.

With a tiny smile, he pushed away from the table and made his way over while she turned back to Varric, “Please go find me a mage? Any will do.”

Varric stood up as well with a shake of the head and began to make his way out of the Hanged Man, Bianca strapped to his back well within reach, “I’ll see you in Hightown, Hawke.”

“Don’t be late we don’t want to miss out on seeing her lovely boo- I MEAN see her duel some bad guys.”

“You’re hopeless Hawke!”

“You love me Varric!”

“Can I help you with something, Hawke?”

“Ah, Fenris. Always lovely to see your handsome face, random question- do you have your sword handy? There’s a thing in Hightown I want to get to.”

***

Fenris always enjoyed watching Hawke work.

He’d come to Kirkwall in search of haven, and found something… entirely different in her. She’d been unexpected, a rare beauty amongst all the same things that had become blurred together. He’d been planning on leaving after clearing out the mansion but, for some reason, he’d stayed. If only to learn more about her.

Her smarts and quick wit often helped her in any situation, in all the time he’d known her he’d never seen her look frustrated, or angry. Only amused or pleasantly surprised. And he’d learnt a thing or too, to find a small smidgen of light in things that may not necessarily have it.

He admired her, he’d stuck around because she had proven herself capable of offering him help months ago, and found himself liking her company more and more. Even if he couldn’t admit it to himself.

It was… enjoyable, to be walking with her like this. The silence between them was cut through by the babble and noises of Lowtown, which never seemed to be silent no matter how late into the night it was. She was excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child.

“Where exactly are we going?” He questioned, his eyes darting to the side to see an excited glint in hers.

“Hightown, we’ll be meeting someone there. Should be fun?” Her grin was almost carefree, unhindered by the stress she was under. He’d never seen her so… giddy. Not even when she’d tried some of his Aggregio.

“Ah.” He let her take the lead when they started up the path, as she knew where they were going.

His mind wandered, and he took the second to admire Hawke again in the light of the quickly setting sun.

For one thing, she was taller than Fenris. The only person in their group (or family as she liked to call it) that almost matched her height was Anders, and even he had to stand on his toes. Her skin tanned and dotted all over with freckles, lyrium blue eyes that ran in the family, long hair a dusty orange and always worn differently –for someone who cared little for how she looked, Hawke was very careful with her hair but often told them she was going to cut it. Her skin appeared marked and calloused with scars from farm life, but over time she’d accumulated others. Marked from the escape from Fereldan and her new life in Kirkwall. The most prominent of which was the scar on the right side of her bottom lip spanning to her chin that she refused to tell anyone where it was acquired.

It seemed that everything about her was right on the surface, Hawke managed to play everything about herself to her own advantage, even managing to use her immense height as an added bonus when facing down bigger opponents. Even though there was something… off about it. As if they weren’t really _seeing_ her, not as she truly was.

They’d reached Hightown, and met the woman that Fenris had seen Hawke talking to at the foot of the Chantry steps. Varric was already there, a bewildered Merrill in tow.

“There you are; I’ve been here for hours.”

“You literally left the Hanged Man two minutes before we did-”

“Hader hasn’t shown up; no one has…” Isabela glanced over her shoulder with a sigh, “I don’t like this.”

Varric rolled his eyes, “I don’t like this? That’s right up there with ‘what could possibly go wrong’-”

“There’s the wench we’ve been looking for! Gut her!” The conversation was interrupted by a group of thugs drawing their weapons and very stupidly picking a fight with the group.

Between the new addition to the party and Hawke’s mad skills, the fight was over quickly. They traced the mercs back to the Chantry where they made a slightly illegal entrance through the front door.

Hawke always felt like she was in trouble when she entered the Chantry, and stayed close to Isabela as the others started to poke around. Even though the place was empty, the candles were still burning and the faint smell of incense made Fenris feel almost comforted, not quite safe, but as if he was in a place he could relax slightly.

“Of course they’re in here.” Varric murmured, “Where else would a bunch of shady mercenaries from Antiva wait for a pirate?”

“It is a bit silly.” Merrill whispered back just as quietly.

Hawke turned to offer them a conspiratorial smile and she put a finger to her lips to silence them as they entered the main hall.

“Isabela. Shoulda known you’d find me here.” The extremely accented voice belonged to a man who had emerged from the shadows with a bunch of other, equally intimidating men.

“Ten out of ten for the grand entrance.” Hawke said under her breath as Isabela stepped forward.

“Tell your men to burn the letters next time.” Isabela replied with a shrug as if to say ‘I am just that good.’

“Castillion was heartbroken when he heard about the shipwreck- you should’ve let him know you survived.”

“It must have slipped my mind.”

He sniggered for a moment but then turned serious leaving Fenris reeling from the quick shift in demeanor, “Where’s the relic.”

“I lost it. Castillion’s just going to have to do without.” Fenris tensed when he saw Isabela’s fists clench, and slipped into a battle ready stance himself as she angled herself forward.

“Lost it? Just like you lost a ship full of valuable cargo?”

Isabela’s voice was surprisingly indignant when she replied, “They weren’t cargo, Hader they were people!”

Fenris didn’t hear much else aside from the boiling blood in his ears. These men… they were slavers. From the corner of his suddenly red-tinged glare he saw Hawke tear her eyes away from the conversation and whip around to Fenris.

He’d been prepared for pity, but not the same rage he recognised in himself.

“Those slaves were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and now the Relic’s gone too. Castillion won’t be happy to hear this.” He paced, a face twisted in disgust.

Hawke, who had been silent up until this point, whipped her piercing gaze back to the argument, “Will someone explain what’s going on?” She demanded.

“Isabela’s been a very bad girl, ruined a perfectly good business deal, and then ran away.” He said condescendingly, as if explaining it to a child. “She didn’t tell you?”

Through the blood still boiling in his ears Fenris recognised Hawke’s readiness for a fight by how casually she was standing, slightly away from Isabela with her hands in her pockets and shoulders slumped.

“I told her enough. I also said I arranged for a duel, which I did. I also knew you wouldn’t play fair, which you didn’t.” Isabela looked slightly more desperate as she turned to Hawke slightly, “We can talk later if you want, right now we have other problems.”

Hawke put on a smirk that would have intimidated even the mightiest of men, the scar on her lip pulling up and standing out on her skin as she turned to face Hader, “It sounds to me like Castillion needs to lighten up a bit, maybe he needs a new hobby?”

They were both quite the sight standing there almost mirroring each other’s stance, angled so to protect each other’s backs. Isabela’s smile just as vicious as Hawke’s, “There’s only one way to settle this.”

At the same time, as if they’d rehearsed it before-hand, Isabela and Hawke drew a knife each and threw for a different mercenary. Two dropped before Hader knew what had happened, and suddenly the fight had begun again.

***

“ _So_ … stab first, ask questions later?” Hawke stood up from Hader’s corpse, a coin-purse jingling in her grasp. A substantial loot, even if it was off the backs of slaves. Maybe she could donate some to Anders’ hospital…

“Trust me. It’s better this way.” Hawke noticed Isabela had a quirk of shuffling her feet when uncomfortable or nervous and it only made her more appealing, “Castillion won’t find out about me from Hader but he will find out eventually. I just have to get him the relic, simple as that.”

Her curiosity (more like nosiness) returned, and Hawke tilted her head to the side as she produced a cloth to wipe her daggers clean, “What is the relic, exactly?”

“I’m… not sure what it is except that it’s ancient and worth my weight in gold. Castillion has me chasing it down as payment back for freeing his slaves.” Isabela said with an irritated brushing back of her hair.

Hawke’s eyes trailed back to Fenris as he helped Varric dispose of the bodies, his tattoos still glowing in the dim light of the Chantry. Her eyes snapped back to Isabela when she heard her desperate tone, “To be honest… I think he just wants me dead. But that would be letting me off easy.”

“What was this about… freeing slaves?” At the question Hawke spied the tip of Fenris’ pointed ear twitch, and she felt his gaze heavy on the both of them.

“I was asked to escort Castillion’s cargo ship but got a bad feeling about the job half way through. Boarded the ship to find slaves, nearly two hundred. Elves, humans, even children. It was sickening.” Bodies disposed of, Fenris wandered closer to the conversation until he was almost standing at Hawke’s side with his fists were clenched. “They’d paid Castillion to take them away from the Blight. He took their money and sold them into slavery. Even I know that’s _wrong_.”

Hawke’s stomach dropped at the words, she’d protected her mother and sisters from being sold when they’d reached the docks. Getting passage to Kirkwall was extremely difficult, and there were many slavers ready to take advantage of green farmers with nothing left but the clothes on their backs. That… had nearly been her…

She felt the sudden urge to hug each member of her family.

“If getting the Relic gets Castillion off your back, then I’ll help you find it.”

“I still don’t know where it is but, you’ll be the first to know if I hear anything.” Then Isabela’s tone shifted to one that was much lighter, more relaxed, “Anyway, Thanks for helping me out with Hader. I think I’ll tag along for a while, there might be something I could do for you.” Even those completely innocent words sounded suggestive when Isabela said them, and Hawke noticed as her eyes trailed to Fenris and back when she continued, “And… I have a room in the Hanged Man, if you’re looking for… company later.”

Hawke once again spaced completely out as she watched Isabela sashay her way out of the Chantry, and this time it was Merrill worriedly pulling her arm to snap her out of it.

“C’mon Daisy, I’ll walk you back to the Alienage.” Varric grabbed Merrill’s hand and started to pull her away, “Catch you later, Hawke.”

“Bye Hawke!”

And suddenly it was just them left in the huge expanse of empty Chantry.

Fenris was suddenly quiet again, in contrast to how he’d been on the way up. He had returned to brooding, and Hawke racked her mind for a way to draw him out of it. So when they were on their way down the Chantry steps, she asked him, “I’ve been meaning to visit for a while, do you have the time now? I have some pastries from the market that I’ve been waiting to try.”

Fenris nodded, with a small smile in response.

So they walked to the back of his mansion in a more peaceful silence as Hawke fished the pastries from her pack. She settled on one of the comfier chairs in front of the fire and broke one in half.

Fenris left and then came back with a familiar bottle of Aggregio. Hawke thought that he’d surely nearly run out by this point, he often drank a small portion of the bottle then smashed it somewhere.

“Aggregio Pavalli, I have six bottles left in the cellar.” Hawke watched him eye the bottle in his hand, “Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance intimidated them, he said, which he enjoyed.” He said, turning back to her but still not sitting back down.

Hawke offered him a warm smile, and his gaze caught on the scar again before meeting her eyes as she said, “I can’t imagine why they would be put off.” She’d always enjoyed that small smirk when it spread across his face, and loved being the one to put it there.

“You say what’s on your mind, I’ll give you that.” His throaty voice managed to send her into another daze that was broken by the sound of a bottle shattering against a wall. Used to random and possibly violent noises, she didn’t startle only peered at the now completely stained rug near the wall where the bottle smashed.

“It’s good I can still take pleasure in the small things,” Fenris noted, and she shook her head and leant back in her chair.

“You could have offered me a glass first, you know.”

“There’s more, if you’re really interested.”

“Perish the thought, how else would you redecorate the walls?” Her remark was rewarded with the smirk and a small laugh before he turned serious again.

“I’ve wanted to leave my past behind me, but it won’t stay there.” He turned and walked towards the chair diagonally next to hers, right across from the fire, “Tell me, have you never wanted to return to Fereldan?”

She thought for a moment, of the farm in Lothering. So small compared to Kirkwall, so seemingly insignificant, all the animals and all the harvests that she’d grown up protecting and cultivating… it was likely all gone now, it was Blighted land and nothing would grow there. Not for a while at least. “I… have no home to go back to.”

His brows furrowed at her words, “The Blight is over, you could return what you lost. Do you truly not want to?”

She was already shaking her head, “Even so. Kirkwall is my home now; we have heritage here.”

Fenris unconsciously gestured with his right hand when he talked, and was doing so as he replied, “Having a place where you can put down roots. I understand… Still. To have the option… must be gratifying.”

“Maybe it’s just me but, it sounds like you want to stick around.”

“I could imagine staying. For the right reasons.” He glanced towards the fire then back again, “I should thank you for helping me against the hunters.”

“Yes. You should.”

“Had I known Anso would find me a woman so capable, I might have asked him to look sooner.” He replied, that smirk back on his face as he eyed her.

She almost laughed, but still couldn’t help herself from replying jokingly, “You sound like you’re about to ask for a loan.”

“Well, this mansion does require some upkeep.”

Hawke had been unprepared for a playful answer and laughed outright while he pushed away from his chair and walked until her was in front of her. It was almost a nice change for her, having to look up to meet someone’s eyes, even though it was only a small distance.

His tone was almost hopeful as he eyed her, “Perhaps I’ll practice my flattery for your next visit? With any luck I may become better at it.”

“Perhaps you should.” She said, standing.

They weren’t that close, but they could still feel how warm and electric the air was between them. How very real that tension had become.

Between this handsome elf with the throaty voice, and the leggy pirate with smouldering eyes –Hawke was completely done for.


End file.
